Cos' and effect

During a recent 50-minute conversation — approximating a free-style monologue — one of the most revered humorists in American history improvised, philosophized and reminisced.

In a distinctive voice that’s been a trusted and integral element of American culture for a half-century, Cosby roamed freestyle — from the 43-degree temperature that morning in Pacific Palisades to his formative years in San Francisco clubs to the Philadelphia school teacher who woke him up to a wider world.

So, if there were a Mount Rushmore of American comedy, would the 75-year-old Cosby belong?

“It’s not that important to me,” he said with that mischievous twinkle in his voice. “What’s important is I want my nose on the Sphinx. That’s all I’m asking.”

He’ll likely be getting his usual ration of laughs, though, Saturday when he performs his stand-up routine at Stockton’s Bob Hope Theatre.

During one stream-of-consciousness riff, he spontaneously recalled improvised jogging workouts at a “Stockton college” during earlier visits.

“Listen,” said a playful Cosby, who attended Philadelphia’s Temple University on a track scholarship. “You have to take care of yourself. You’re running against time. It began to crawl up on me. It brings up a lot of stuff. Like bad arteries and kidney stones.”

During his time, Cosby has done it all in show business and American culture as a comedian, recording TV role model, author, racial pioneer, social critic and wizened voice of reason.

The Cos’ has won four Emmy and nine Grammy awards. Between 1965 and 1968, he helped break the TV color barrier by teaming with Robert Culp on “I Spy. “The Cosby Show” (1984-92 and still being shown in syndication) defied racial stereotypes while ranking No. 1 in viewership.

He was awarded the Mark Twain Prize for American Humor in 2009 and has received honorary degrees from 13 colleges and universities, including Temple, where his transformation from a direction-less teenager to a cultural icon began.

He doesn’t pontificate onstage: “They don’t need to hear that from me. I’ve not promised to do that. I keep those things on a serious note. On news programs. Not as entertainment.”

He definitely provided plenty of that in conversation. His voice, varying in tone and inflection to suit the topic, veered in and out of impressions of people, places and emotions.

Cosby’s range was wide, yet only a fraction of what’s available on his 44 comedy and musical recordings, 12 books and TV episodes. Such as:

• Spotting his first cross-dresser during his seminal “Damon Runyon-esque” nights in San Francisco’s North Beach — performing at the hungry i, and Finocchio’s and eating at Enrico’s.

“There were two men wearing women’s clothing,” Cosby recalled with appropriate vocal inflections. “One had a beard. He said, ‘That’s not Bing Crosby. You said that’s Bing Crosby. I know Bing Crosby from Bill Cosby. You are funny.' You didn’t see her any more. She had fallen under the table laughing.”

• Watching a game between the Green Bay Packers and Los Angeles Rams on the Los Angeles Coliseum sidelines after childhood basketball teammate Herb Adderley, a Green Bay defensive back, recognized him. Cosby was hanging out with actor James Garner.

“I don’t lie,” Cosby said. “I don’t say things to fool people. Some people come to you and tell you what happened 40, 30 or 20 years ago and you know it has to be true. Here’s you’re basketball-playing buddy and, all of a sudden, my brain is going, ‘Vince Lombardi (Green Bay’s fabled coach) knew Bill Cosby.’ ”

• Getting admitted to Temple with an SAT score of 500. He took a remedial English course and wanted to become a school teacher. Cosby struggled before getting grades of B-plus, then A-plus on 750-word essays. The professor asked him to read the second one (“how I pulled my tooth when I was 6 years old”) in front of the class.

“I was the only black person in class,” said Cosby, clarifying that he wrote with a No. 2 pencil on a yellow legal pad. “I said, ‘Thank goodness. I don’t mind. I want to learn. I want to know everything.’ That opened it up for me. I didn’t know what writing was. I knew I liked it.”

• Fondly recollecting a demanding — and pivotal — elementary school teacher: “My mother told that woman to get me (in her class) and watch me. I didn’t know that ’til I was 40 years old. Other kids said, ‘Don’t get her. She’s mean as hell. She’ll make you do work over again.’ I wound up doing the work, but my mother also gave her permission to pull my clothes.”

Those “teachable moments” led to his college scholarship and enduring career.

An admirer of comedic and societal rebels such as Lenny Bruce, Mort Sahl and Dick Gregory, Cosby said, “Some of it may be old characteristics. I don’t just wanna be known as a funny person all the time. I like to be respected as a man of thought.”

Of course, Cosby works “clean” — unlike many of this era’s coarse contemporary comics “I stay right within the home,” said Cosby, a father of five who’s been married to Camille Olivia Hanks for 48 years. “I may take you outside, but I still deal with family and things of that nature.”

No old fogey, he’s cool with that. Bruce (1925-66) — who went to jail for cussing in public — helped make it possible for Richard Pryor and so many others do their thing.

“How many time was Lenny pulled out of a club and going to jail all the time?” Cosby said. “About what? To me, it’s still a mystery not answered. If they busted Lenny for lewd-and-lascivious conduct, how did Richard not get arrested for using four-letter words? Very, very interesting.

“They say, ‘Yeah, but he curses.' Yeah, but he’s funny. In the mix, I give credit to Lenny Bruce all day long.”

For Cosby, there’s still more potential praise to be earned. He’s developing a one-hour cable-TV show for FX.

“When it’s done correctly,” he said. “You’re gonna have people watching because information there. Laughter about human beings. It’s nothing like those shows that provoke people to act like silly people. Remember our conversation.”